Do What They Can
by Miko Akako
Summary: AU dark!future!fic. Dave checks himself in to a psychiatric unit when his depression escalates. Kurt has been in and out of them since his mother died. Can they find happiness with each other or is a happy ending really just for the movies? TRIGGERS: Suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide, self harm, depression. Rating for triggers.


The building wasn't anything like Dave expected. It wasn't made of brick and there were no cobwebs in the windows or unexplainable flickering lights. The plants weren't old trees with moss hanging to create dark shadows where monsters lurked. In fact, the whole place looked rather unremarkable. The white washed building was clean and the landscaping was almost boring with the complete lack of color. The parking lot was full, but Dave guided his car into one of the three empty spots labeled for guests. He hesitated before turning off the ignition.

It was only the promise he'd made to Dr. Hensley that kept him from putting the car in reverse and driving back to his crappy apartment and picking back up with his boring, safe, _pathetic_ life. His graduation tassels were hanging on his dashboard, signifying his position in the top 10% of his class. There was an opened letter from Moritz College of Law, welcoming him to the fall class and an unopened one from Harvard law of the same size. A handful of other envelopes were scattered around, mixed with fast food bags and dirty laundry that he didn't really remember why he had. Despite the promise he made to himself as he got out of the car, he knew that he wasn't actually going to clean it when he got home.

The entry hall reminded Dave of the hospital where he'd gotten his appendix taken out. There were pastel paintings hanging on the wall and potted plants – all green – trying to add a semblance of life to the sterile environment. Even the woman behind the desk looked half asleep as she moved a stack of files from one desk to another and then blinked up at Dave. After the brief moment it took for her to realize who he was, she plastered a smile to her face and stood up with an energy that had been absent while he was watching her unnoticed.

"Hello there. You must be Mr. Karofsky?" Without waiting for an answer, she pressed a buzzer and spoke into an intercom in a voice too low for him to catch. "Doctor Chesse will be right up to show you around. We're pleased you decided to come to Harmon Psychiatric Hospital. I'm sure y-"

"Uh…Dave." He said, head still reeling from the speed with which she was spouting off information. When she realized he had said something, she paused in her tirade to acknowledge it with an obnoxious smile and a clicking of her tongue that made his teeth grate. He let it slide; deciding that reminding her he wasn't a five year-old child was not worth the effort it would take. It didn't matter anyway because before he could even open his mouth to say anything, she was off again, giving great detail about a new chef and state of the art nutrition program.

"I'll take it from here, Karen." The man who walked up looked too young to be a doctor. In fact, he looked like someone Dave would pick up at a club, if the doctor had been single or gay, neither of which he was, judging by the wedding band on his finger and the fact that same-sex marriage was still illegal in Ohio.

Not that Dave was living that lifestyle anymore. He'd given that up after his dad threatened to cut off his monthly checks. It hadn't been the threat that instigated the change, but the realization that no matter how many men he slept with the empty feeling still refused to go away. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel the pulsing music in his bones and the warmth of someone's hands on his skin. For a brief moment, he wished he was back at Club Green and not at Harmon entrusting his mental wellbeing to someone less than five years out of med school.

"If you'll just follow me, Mr. Karofsky, I'll show you around the facilities." Dave didn't bother correcting about his name, falling in to step beside the shorter man as they walked through a door labeled 'Staff Only.'

"Harmon Psychiatric Hospital was founded in 1988 by Dr. Todd D. Harmon. Since it opened there have been over 20,000 patients rehabilitated. We have the facilities to accommodate up to twenty-two at one time. There are eight psychiatrists on the pay roll and at least two in their offices at all times. Every patient is assigned their own psychiatrist while in residence, but should there be an emergency any of us will be glad to talk to you. Aside from psychiatrists, we also employ several medical doctors who perform physicals on every patient entering the program and who are always on call, should the need arise.

"Do you have any questions before we begin the tour?" Dave blinked, unaware that the tour hadn't started. The hallways they'd walked through had been empty and the door they stopped at had a key pad and an alarm, obviously indicating the start of the hospital where the patients were kept. A few questions drifted to the front of his mind, but most of them were sarcastic and none of them were important so he just shrugged.

"Not really."

"Well, David – if I may call you that –" Dave just nodded, "I want you to feel free to speak your mind, okay? There really is no such thing as a stupid question." He held eye contact with Dave for a minute, making Dave feel like he was in elementary school again. Despite the overused adage, Dave made no attempt to ask a question and eventually a pin was entered and the light switched from red to green as the door opened for them to pass through.

"This is the activities room." Doctor Chasse lifted an arm as if there was any chance Dave would overlook the massive room they stood in. It was divided into four separate areas. One quarter held a surprisingly new looking television with several individual arm chairs forming a semi circle around it. The second held easels resting against the wall and boxes of what Dave could only assume were paint. A third area was obviously for physical exercise with a single treadmill and some yoga mats rolled up and lying in a pyramid. The last held a bookshelf and several bean bags, but before Dave could see more than that, Doctor Chasse was walking across the room and into another hallway.

"This hallway holds the rooms where you'll be split into groups of six to ten for group time. Twice a day you will meet with the group to set your goals and review them. It helps give a sense of purpose and making them as a group gives you a support system to hold you accountable." Dave nodded, thinking of his already abandoned promise to clean his car, only the most recent in a long list of small chores he couldn't even make himself accomplish. As much as he hated to admit it, the stay in Harmon might actually be a good thing.

"We're just going to take a peek into the cafeteria. It's lunch time now so everyone is eating. We've got a new nutritionist who will meet with you in the first week and set up a meal plan for you…" Doctor Chasse's words drifted off, masked by the sounds of people talking as the door to the cafeteria opened.

The room itself was unremarkable. It could have been any public school cafeteria with white tables and plastic chairs that were never comfortable no matter how long you sat in them. His eyes took that in quickly and then moved on to observing the people. For the most part they looked completely ordinary. There were obvious friendships with most groups consisting of three or four people sitting at tables by themselves.

The only exception was a group of a dozen or so with three tables pulled close in the center of the room. And at the center of the group was a boy who was being reluctantly dragged to his feet at the urging of those closest to him. Dave was too far away to catch a name, but he did hear them asking him to sing. From the folding of his shoulders he was obviously averse to the idea, but eventually he let himself be coaxed into standing.

Until then his face was hidden from Dave. As soon as he was on his feet it was like a magnet was drawing their gazes together. Dave's first impression was that he knew the boy on the other side of the room, but then he realized that was impossible; he would remember someone that beautiful. Still, there was a familiarity that buzzed around Dave's mind, teasing him by remaining just out of reach. There was a name right on the tip of his tongue. He pushed that annoyance aside and just focused on the boy, memorizing his features to recall later.

He was undeniably the most beautiful boy Dave had ever seen. His features were all harsh angles that somehow combined to a soft whole. Even as Dave looked the set of his jaw clenched and his eyebrows furrowed as if deep in thought. He could tell from all the way across the room that they were eyes he could get lost in – all deep blues and greens like the ocean.

The longer he looked, the more imperfections he could see. There were deep shadows under those beautiful eyes that could rival Dave's own. The strong features were perhaps just a little gaunter than they could have been and the full meal still sitting on his plate told the reason for that. But perhaps the most telling thing was the way the smile that took over his face when he looked away from Dave never quite touched his eyes.

"Sing 'Defying Gravity' today, Kurt!"

"No, he just sang that last week. Sing –"

"Shut up! Wha-"

"'Defying Gravity' is timele-"

Dave couldn't make out the boy's voice through the mess, but he did catch a name – Kurt. He frowned, searching through his memory for some spark of recognition. High school, perhaps? But Dave had been so caught up in his own turmoil during high school to remember much of anyone else outside his immediate radar.

He still hated who his high school self had been. The nicest way to put it was to say he had been a bully. Some of the things he had done still made him cringe. At his lowest, he'd actually locked someone in a dumpster all weekend. The boy's friends had rescued him, but Dave hadn't known that until Monday morning. Even his lesser crimes weren't innocent; slushies in faces, body slamming into lockers. He and his friends had ruled the school starting sophomore year when the quarterback, Finn Hudson, had joined the glee club. With half a decade out of there, he realized it was his way of taking out his own insecurities without actually facing them.

"I think we'll be able to catch Doctor Bell in her office. She specializes in depression cases and I think you two will get along very well." Doctor Chasse's voice was jarring but it was the silent click of the door as it closed that shocked Dave out of his trip down memory lane.

To Dave's eternal relief, Doctor Bell was not in her office. He tried not to let it show how little he wanted to meet her, but he was sure the questioning look in Doctor Chasse's face would result in a red mark on Dave's file. It wasn't that he didn't want to meet her, just that the effort it would take to put on the show of 'depressed but determined to get better' would be too much for him to sustain after feigning interest in the tour.

On the way back to the main lobby, they popped outside to a small garden devoid of anything except grass and trees and one square of well kept flowers that was where the patients were allowed outside for a few hours every day. When they got to the lobby, Dave thought the tour was over. Before he could say anything to that affect, Doctor Chasse opened a door into an office and held it, clearly expecting Dave to follow. Inside, Dave took the offered chair and waited for whatever it was that Doctor Chasse was going to say but not bothering to care – part of him wanted the man to say that Dave's case wasn't severe enough to warrant a stay even while the much smaller part of him was desperate to make the slow, steady ache in his gut disappear even if it meant subjecting himself to this humiliation.

"Well, David, what did you think of our humble facility?" It wasn't the question Dave was expecting and it took him by surprise. What did he think of it, aside from the fact that not that long ago he would have died before admitting he needed help? "I think Harmon has a lot to offer you if you, but we can only help as much as you'll let us."

"It…it seems nice," Dave said lamely. He knew what Doctor Chasse wanted him to say, but damn if the words were still too hard to get past his lips. He choked on them a few times, but the psychiatrist was patient and eventually Dave did get them out. "I…I think I'd like to come here. I think it might uh, help. Y'know."

As if those were the magic words, Doctor Chasse's whole attitude seemed to relax. There was a genuine smile on his face and he didn't seem so tense. It took Dave by surprise and he found himself reevaluating his opinion of the man. "I'm glad to hear you say that, David. We review all of the potential patient's cases and I think your prognosis is very favorable if you're willing to put effort in. There are just a few forms we'll need you to sign and then I believe you said…" he shuffled the few papers around until he found what he was looking for, "June 2nd is when you'd like to begin?"

"Uh…yeah." Dave didn't bother mentioning that the program was full until that date when one of the patients was leaving. For all the preparation he needed, he could have been in the next day. He didn't see the point in mentioning that so he kept his mouth shut as forms were handed to him to sign. By the end, he could have been handed forms authorizing the hospital to take out his kidneys while he was asleep and he would have signed just to get out of the room which was shrinking in size the longer he sat in the uncomfortable chair.

Finally, when he thought he would never be free, the doctor took back the last form and announced there were no more to sign. Relief must have been evident on his face because Doctor Chasse chuckled as he slipped the last paper into the steadily growing file. "Imagine having to do this multiple times a week. We've kept you here long enough. I'm sure you have loose ends to tie up before your stay. Remember – you're not going to be allowed to contact anyone for at least the first week here. I'll see you next Monday."

"Yeah…see ya." Dave walked himself out into the lobby, glancing over at the secretary who was leaning back in her chair looking at the ceiling. He bit his lip but didn't say anything as he slipped out the door and walked across the parking lot to his car. He hadn't realized how much time had passed while he was inside, but the sun was already touching the horizon, tinting everything orange. Dave slid into his car and drove away from the building without looking back.

xxxx

The thought of the boy in the cafeteria plagued Dave for the rest of the night. Even in his sleep he imagined the boy – Kurt. Except instead of leaving, Dave got to watch him sing. Somehow Dave knew that Kurt was a natural performer, taking on new life when all eyes were on him. And then there were the details that Dave didn't know how to explain, but that he knew to be true without a doubt. Like the way Kurt pushed his hair from his eyes while he was singing. Or the little skip he would do while dancing across the stage.

Kurt was still on his mind when he woke up the next morning. Skipping breakfast – he wasn't hungry much anyway even though he had missed dinner the night before – he went straight to the box in his closet where he kept all of his old high school memories. The box itself was unremarkable, made of cardboard with a hole in one of the corners were something had chewed through while it was in storage.

The first thing on top was a letterman jacket, faded from four years of wear and tear. Dave let it rest in his hands for a moment, lifting it to his face and smiling when it still smelled like high school. Under a few other memorabilia was the object he'd been looking to find. William McKinley High School's year book was unassuming black leather, a sophisticated look the school certainly never had while Dave attended.

He spent the next few minutes lost in memories of high school as he looked at familiar and unfamiliar faces. To his surprise, he found that he missed that time, even with all his regrets. He missed seeing Azimio every day. Over the years they had drifted away until they rarely spoke. Just as he was about to close the book and give up his search for Kurt, he turned a page and the mystery boy was smiling back at him from the middle row of one of the group photos.

Shock was the first thing that Dave registered upon seeing _that _face looking up at him accompanied by the realization that he really had known Kurt before. Or…not known, but seen. The picture was a catalyst, activating a memory he had until that time tossed off as insignificant. He and Azimio had been walking down the hall after hockey practice and the doors to the auditorium were cracked ever so slightly. Coming from them was the sound of singing and Dave hadn't been able to resist walking over and looking through the opening in the door.

Kurt had been on the stage, singing something that Dave didn't remember or recognize. He looked exactly as he had in Dave's dream, all long limbs and graceful movement and that _voice_. Dave would have been happy to stand there and watch all day, but Azimio was already moving on and calling for Dave to do the same. He remembered looking for that boy the next day but not seeing him. Eventually he gave up, assuming it was just someone visiting from another school. It never occurred for him to look in the yearbook. Or maybe by the time he'd gotten his yearbook Kurt had already faded from his memory.

Carefully, Dave packed the box away and returned it to the shelf. Walking through his apartment did nothing to lift his mood. There were no decorations hung on the walls, no pictures to make it seem like anyone even lived there. Half of his belongings were still in boxes stacked in corners with only the necessities out. It was as if he'd only lived there three weeks instead of the three years it actually had been since he signed the lease.

He was just sitting down on the couch, casting a disdainful look at the box perched on one end as if it was personally offensive, when his phone rang. Instead of answering, he just watched the light flash with each ring until eventually it was silent. Absently he thought of checking to see who called, but there was no one he felt like talking to at the moment. All he wanted was to close his eyes and wake up after his stay at Harmon, magically fixed. Or close his eyes and never wake up. Either one was preferable to waking up and having to get off the couch and do something.

The day seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. One moment he was just waking up and looking for the box and the next the alarm on his phone was going off, signaling him to get ready for his dinner with Azimio. It had been his therapist's idea to set alarms for things. After the semester where he almost flunked out because he missed so many classes, she'd made him go through his schedule and set an alarm on his phone for each class or study session or other important date.

He'd set up the dinner with Azimio right after he booked himself a three week stay in Harmon. Azimio's enthusiasm made Dave feel guilty for avoiding his friend for so long. And he couldn't even blame it all on the depression. Their lack of contact extended to well before things had gotten really bad with him. Physical distance was a factor – Dave had gone away to Columbus for school while Azimio had stayed in Lima to do two years at community college and then finished a business degree at an online university. Eventually the ache of missing someone he'd spent the better part of eighteen years with faded, until one or two text conversations a month along with catching up over beers at the pub whenever Azimio was in Columbus were all the contact they had.

_Georgia's_, the restaurant Dave had chosen, was half restaurant and half bar with a television screen taking up an entire wall showing a baseball game. Baseball was one of the few sports Dave didn't follow closely. He'd watch games if there was nothing else to do, but he wasn't invested in a specific team enough to devote time to tracking scores or rankings so he took in the game with vague disinterest while he sat there waiting.

The waitress was just bringing a refill for the soda he'd ordered when Azimio showed up. He looked exactly as he always did with a slightly better wardrobe, adopting the suits he had to wear for his job into his everyday life, and he'd definitely slimmed since the last time they met. Dave's old jeans and t-shirt suddenly felt inadequate as he wiped his hand on the side of his pants and then shook Azimio's, pulling him in for a hug and a pat on the back.

They spent the first hour catching up on each other's lives. Azimio graduated a semester early so he was already six months in his job and was already in line for a promotion. Dave tried to feel happy for his friend, but it was hard to struggle out from under the horrible thought that while Azimio had been putting his life together, all Dave had was an ever growing pile of debt and very little to actually show for it. In theory he would go to law school and earn it all back, but right now that seemed like an insurmountable task.

"So what're you up to, man?" Azimio asked, pulling Dave out of his self-deprecating thoughts. He took a sip of his drink to buy himself time as his shoulder rose and fell.

"Thought I'd head out of town," Dave said. It was the reason for the meeting, actually. One of the things the program required was no outside contact which he knew when he signed up. However, he didn't want anyone trying to call him and not getting through. So he'd decided to lie. If he was going to be a lawyer, he should get all the practice he could. "Maybe head to Canada for a few weeks."

"Damn. I wish I could join you but the company's been keeping me working my ass off and with the promotion about to come up…" Dave let himself breathe a sigh of relief. He would've felt like a dick for not letting Azimio come along on the fictitious trip.

"No big deal. Next time I'll give you more warning."

"Great. Maybe then you'll finally find someone to settle down with and we can go on one of those couples vacations."

"Is it that serious with you and…" Dave drew a blank. He had no idea who Azimio was dating. If that didn't say something about the state of their relationship, he wasn't sure what would.

"Quinn Fabray, remember?" Dave searched his brain but, while he could come up with a mental image of the head cheerio easily enough, he had a difficult time reconciling the girl she'd been with Azimio's girlfriend.

"Of course. Uh, how is she?"

"She's fantastic, except she's already stressing about the wedding." That really caught Dave by surprise, and he was sure it showed on his face if the bark of laughter Azimio gave was any indication.

"Congratulations! So when are you tying the knot?"

"Next May. Q's insisting on a spring wedding and I'm still kind of surprised she said yes." For the first time, Dave realized how happy Azimio looked when he was talking about Quinn and, unbidden and completely irrationally, he felt a stab of jealousy. Sure he hadn't been looking for someone, not really, but Dave would give anything for the knowledge that someone loved him enough to want to spend the rest of their lives together. Of course, Dave wasn't sure he even wanted to spend the rest of his life with himself, so he wasn't sure why anyone else would want to either. He forced himself to pay attention to what Azimio was saying, catching the tail end of the speech. "…and I was wondering if you'd be my best man?"

"Absolutely," Dave enthused. He tried to force as much excitement into his voice as possible.

"So you're okay with it?" Dave tried to remember what exactly he was supposed to be okay with but he hadn't been paying attention at all. Thankfully, Azimio realized and repeated himself. "With it being a Catholic ceremony. I know your family was but you haven't been to church since…"

"Since I came out and my parents told me either I 'change my fucking mind or keep my fucking perverse ways out of the church'?" Dave's parents had since reconciled – mostly – with his sexuality. Occasionally they asked if he had a girlfriend, to which Dave would curb his tongue and change the subject, but otherwise they ignored his personal life and he just didn't volunteer information. Not that there was much information, if any, to offer. "Of course I'm fine with it. Do I get to bring a date?"

"Hell yeah! Can't have my boy come stag to my wedding." That got a laugh out of Dave, though it was still more forced than genuine. Out of everyone he knew in high school, Azimio had been the most supportive. There'd been a few awkward moments, even more awkward questions, and then a shrug of the shoulders and an invitation to play the new COD game like nothing had changed.

A thought suddenly struck Dave and he asked the question in as offhanded a manner he could manage. "So Quinn was in the glee club in high school, right?"

"You should hear her sing. I still don't know how she didn't get all the solos. Why?"

"Do you remember Kurt Hummel?" Dave tried not to let his anticipation show and to force his breathing to remain even.

"Sure. He was in glee with Quinn and he's been to visit her a few times." Dave was spared having to try to ask more when Azimio kept going. "Apparently he's certifiable, but he seemed nice enough."

"Crazy?" Dave asked. Kurt hadn't seemed crazy, but then Dave had only seen him for a few seconds. Obviously there was a reason he was in Harmon.

"It's why he was hardly in school. He's got schizophrenia or something. He talks to himself or some shit. Quinn explained…something about losing his mom or it running in her side of the family." Azimio shrugged and Dave tried to stave off the disappointment when he realized he wasn't going to get any more without raising suspicion.

The information about Kurt was still rolling around in his head and he wasn't even sure why he cared. Kurt was a stranger. Maybe they would hate each other. Even as he thought it he knew it wasn't true. There was just something about Kurt that drew Dave to him, something unnamable and completely terrifying. It was a chore to focus on the conversation when all he wanted to do was head home and pack for his stay in Harmon. Azimio talked more about his job and the wedding. Dave attempted to sound excited about both and was exhausted by the time they walked out to the parking lot to say their goodbyes.

"We've got to meet up more often, D," Azimio said, slapping him on the shoulder. "After your vacation you give me a call and you can head down to Lima and I'll even go with you to that gay bar. Maybe we'll find you a date for the wedding."

"At Scandals?" Dave scoffed. He'd only been a few times during high school, but it wasn't what anyone would call quality. Mostly there were married men trying to get their rocks off behind their wives' backs. But for all its faults, it had been the only place in Lima where he didn't have to lie about every aspect of his life. Still, at least Azimio was making an effort and Dave was glad for that. "Maybe we can skip that and just go to Breadstix."

Azimio agreed and secured Dave's promise before they both got into their own cars. All semblance of energy Dave had been able to muster was gone by the time he got back to his apartment. He shuffled his feet through the halls of his building, collapsing on the couch when the thought of making it all the way to his bedroom was too much. His last thought before drifting off into a restless sleep was that he was only going to rest his eyes and then go to bed.

Xxxx

The nerves roiling Dave's stomach as he pulled up to Harmon made him seriously consider turning around and locking himself in his apartment forever. Instead, he slung the single bag he was allowed across his shoulder and made the long trek across the parking lot from patient parking. With each step his nerves actually calmed until, by the time he reached the lobby, he actually felt peaceful. It was like he'd been standing on the edge of a cliff and was finally going to step off the edge. He almost laughed when he thought about what his psychiatrist would have to say about that analogy.

"Hello, Mr. Karofsky. I heard you stopped by my room on your tour when I was with a patient. I'm very sorry I missed you, but I'm sure we'll get to know each other in the coming weeks. I'm Doctor Bell." She offered a hand which Dave shook briefly.

"It's just Dave," he said stiffly. She was an older woman, probably in her late fifties or early sixties. Her blonde hair was streaked with silver and pulled back in a tight bun that made her look more severe than her tone indicated. Her green eyes were kind as they took him in, if a little intimidating.

"Pleasure to meet you, Dave," she said, turning her body and indicating he follow. "You can leave your things with Karen and we'll dive right in, shall we?" He reluctantly handed his bag to Karen who pressed a button and, before he and Doctor Bell even left the lobby, a nurse came and took his things to be examined and taken back to his room.

"So Dave, I've been talking with Doctor Hensley for a few days now and I think we've agreed on a course of action. But before we go into that, I'd like you to tell me your history in your own words."

Dave was taken by surprise and stumbled over his words. He hadn't ever really catalogued his progression before and several times he found himself having to go back and correct something he'd said. Doctor Bell was patient, listening to him and interrupting only occasionally to ask for clarification for some point or another. In the end, he looked up at the clock on the wall and realized he had been talking almost nonstop for over an hour.

"And can you tell me about the incident that led to your decision to admit yourself to Harmon?" She queried. Dave had skimmed over that part of the story, hoping she wouldn't bring it up all the while knowing that she had to because while he didn't like to dwell on it, that was obviously an important factor to why he was here. Several times he opened and closed his mouth to start but words escaped him. Finally, she took pity on him. "It's okay. We can build up to that."

Dave expected to be finished after that, but there were a whole new round of questions for him to answer. She asked in detail about his day to day life. He placed most of the blame for his nonexistent social life on a rigorous course load, but that excuse fell short when she questioned him about the month since his graduation. Then she moved on to asking him about his childhood – what was the address of the first house he remembered living in (easy, since his parents had lived in the same house forever), his favorite elementary school teacher (Miss Connolly who let him do whatever he wanted), any pets he'd had growing up (an old dog who died when he was seven). The questioning went on for what seemed like days, but finally Doctor Bell put down her paper and declared him finished.

"I believe our physician is waiting for you now," she said, standing up and indicating he do the same. His entire body was sore from sitting still for so long and his first few steps were stiff, something he was acutely aware of since he was headed for the physical. Doctor Bell led him in silence down the hall into another wing.

"Dave, this is Dr. Engle. Dr. Engle, Dave." Dave reached out and shook the offered hand, observing the man behind it. Dr. Engle was younger than Doctor Bell but still older than Dave by at least a decade and a half. There were the shadows of wrinkles around his eyes and lips, hinting at stress. He still had the build of someone in the peak of physical fitness and Dave decided there was something trustworthy about him before he'd even spoken.

The physical exam went decently considering the only exercise Dave got in the past four years was walking to campus from his apartment. Even with that lack of physical exercise he was still thinner than he'd ever been in high school with football practice in the fall and hockey in the spring. It wasn't a surprise since his appetite had been virtually nonexistent for the past few months, eating only when he felt on the verge of passing out or if someone reminded him. He didn't mention any of those facts to the doctor.

By the time he finished with the physical exam and went back to Doctor Bell' room it was well past 9 pm and he was exhausted. There was a sheet of paper sitting on her desk with his name on it and he tried to glance at it as she sat down. He could have saved himself the effort because after she asked how his time with Dr. Engle went, she handed it over to him, explaining that it was the schedule Dave would follow for his stay at Harmon.

"In the morning you'll get up and have an hour for your morning routine. There are six rooms in each hall with two people in a room. There's a bathroom in each room. No razors of any kind are allowed unless you have permission and even then you'll be required to be supervised the entire time. After that you'll go to the cafeteria for breakfast. The nutritionist will assign your food – I believe you met her during your physical –" Dave nodded. The nutritionist was a pleasant woman who'd talked to him for a few minutes about his regular eating habits and then took his blood sugar level and reminded the doctor to forward her all of Dave's results from the physical.

"At breakfast you'll get your medication. Then you'll go to morning group where you'll set yourself a goal for the day, followed by a meeting with me where you can let me know how your medicine is going, along with any concerns you may have. Then you're going to have free time for a while until your second group meeting. The second meeting will be where we promote good habits or distracters which may help after you leave if you feel like you're going to relapse without requiring you to check back in. Lunch will be in the cafeteria again. After lunch will be what we call 'productive time.' You'll do something with your hands – maybe a painting or a simple construction project. We've even got a garden if you're so inclined. You'll have free time until five, when you have your last group of the day and you'll discuss if you met your goal and if you didn't, what you could have done in order to meet it. Then dinner with night meds. And Wednesday and Friday there are movies after dinner for everyone – fun ones, don't worry. Lights out is at eleven and then it starts all over.

"Do you have any questions?" Dave was exhausted so it was all he could do to shake his head to indicate that he was depressed, not stupid, and he could follow a schedule as well as any college graduate who had been attending school nonstop for seventeen years. "Very well. Your room is number twelve. Nurse Howell will take you to your room so you can meet your roommate before lights out. And I will see you tomorrow morning so try and get some sleep."

"Thank you," Dave said, following the nurse who had appeared in the door through the hallway to a room with the number twelve painted in green. He was almost surprised the door opened without a key, but the plunge into darkness was enough to disorient him. With the faint light from the window on the door, he could make out the outline of someone sleeping with the covers pulled up over their head.

"So much for meeting the roommate," he mumbled, walking over to his bag which had been put on his bed and pulling out a t-shirt and pajama pants along with a toothbrush. He changed and brushed his teeth in the bathroom, taking a minute to study his haunted expression in the mirror. There were bags under his eyes and he knew it was only the disorientation of being in a new place that had sustained him thus far. A price would have to be paid for that, experience told him. Waking up the next day would be torture, but he would force himself to do it. He _needed_ to do this, to get better. Then he could open that stupid letter and get on with his life.

All thoughts of sleeping were abandoned the moment he lay down. The bed was so soft he practically sunk in to it. Within seconds he felt suffocated so he tried turning over, sliding to the edge and hoping he wouldn't sink into the bed again. It didn't work. Every so often he would start to drift off to sleep only to feel a weight on his chest that made him wake with a gasp. He wasn't sure how often it happened, but once when he was lying in the dark with his eyes open after a particularly jarring wake-up, he saw the figure on the other bed turn over. In the faint light he could just make out Kurt's features.

"Could you stop that? It's difficult to sleep when you keep making noise." Kurt sounded tired, but suddenly Dave wasn't tired at all. Before he could think of a response, though, Kurt turned around and pulled the covers up again.

"We went to high school together," Dave said into the darkness, looking at the still figure to see if he'd heard. A few minutes elapsed and there was no movement. He was just about to give up when Kurt took a deep breath and then spoke.

"I recognized you when you came in that day. David Karofsky, right?" Never had Dave considered that Kurt would know him. He was shocked to silence, but Kurt didn't wait for him to gather his wits. "You tortured the glee club. Slushies, dumpsters, port-a-potties. You beat up Finn once or twice – he's my stepbrother, you know. So yeah, I know who you are."

Kurt's voice was laced with venom that made Dave's blood run cold. Everything Kurt said was true – it was exactly what Dave told himself when he was lying awake at night. It was the reason he had the razor hidden in the bathroom closet, the rope he kept in with the tools his dad had given to him and the reason he kept all the painkillers his doctor gave him in the cabinet. When he let out his breath he was surprised to find tears in his eyes, making his breath catch.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, putting every ounce of self-loathing into the words. Nothing he ever did would be enough to erase the past. For the rest of his life he would be running from ghosts that he would never be able to escape.

"I know." Kurt's voice was so quiet that Dave almost didn't hear, but he did see when Kurt turned over and gave him a tight smile. There were tears in Kurt's eyes and the smile was more sad than reassuring. Dave tried and failed to return it and settled instead for ducking his head and breaking eye contact. When he looked again, Kurt was turned away, sleeping.

The exchange was so surreal that when Dave woke the next morning by a knock on the door he wasn't sure if it had happened at all. His eyes went straight to the bed where Kurt had been, but it was empty and made up almost as if no one had slept there. Almost but not quite because Dave noticed a picture frame – no glass, of course – on the small dresser with a picture of Kurt and a boy Dave recognized as Finn Hudson along with two people who must be their parents. Reassured that he was at least temporarily sane, Dave slid out from under the sheets and walked with heavy steps to the bathroom.

His morning routine was lax at best but he pushed through the whole thing, conscious that he would be meeting new people. There were the beginnings of stubble on his jaw but his razor had been confiscated and he doubted the nurses would let him have one after the doctor had marked down the old scars on his thighs, long thin scars that could only have come from deliberate actions. The hairs were rough against his hand but not terribly noticeable. Not for the first time he was glad his hair wasn't dark brown like his mother's.

The cafeteria was exactly how Dave remembered it, complete with Kurt's group in the middle, much more subdued than they had been at lunch time when Dave was on his tour. He grabbed his breakfast, a tasteless looking cereal with a banana on the side, and angled towards Kurt's table. He had only covered a few feet before realizing that he might not be welcome with Kurt. It wasn't like they'd had a great conversation the night before. Luck was on his side, however, and he angled towards an empty table in the far corner. Before he made it there, he was intercepted by a brunette girl with a wide smile on her face.

"You must be David Karofsky," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder and steering him towards her table where one other person was sitting. The fact that she knew his name took him by surprise.

"How did you know who I am?" He asked, taking a seat without arguing.

"News travels fast around here. I'm Penny and that," She nodded to the girl who was pushing food around with her spoon, "is Kitty. Well, Katherine, but you can call her Kitty. She doesn't talk much."

"I'm Dave," he said, never taking his eyes off the two girls. Penny seemed like someone he could have met in any one of his classes. She was energetic, happy, chattering away at a mile a minute about who each of the other people were. Her energy was infectious; after five minutes Dave was smiling at a story about the time Penny painted an entire canvas red and was sent to the psychiatrist for 'evaluation.'

"Why did that get you a trip to the doctor?"

"Oh, I've been cutting since I was 9. Once I cut so deep I could draw a whole picture out of blood on the bathroom mirror. That's why I'm in here. What about you?" Dave felt his whole opinion of her shift. Suddenly he could see the force of her smile and the way her eyes darted to the nurses every so often. And he wanted to trust her, but he wasn't sure he could find the right words.

"I didn't try to kill myself," he said. The words came out more defensive that he'd intended. Penny, however, didn't seem upset as she shrugged and took another bite. "I'm sorry. I-"

"Hey. No need to apologize. It took me years to admit I had a problem. Years and five asshole girlfriends who tried to 'fix' me while only making it all worse."

"You're.."

"A lesbian? Yeah. Please tell me you're not one of those homophobic idiots our country tends to breed."

"I'm not. I mean –" Dave fumbled for the words, feeling like a child under her gaze. "I'm gay, too. I just…I'm not used to people being so open about their sexuality."

It had been a long time since Dave hid his sexuality, but in the world of law – or pre-law in his case – anything other than the white picket fence lifestyle was something that just wasn't advertised. So while he hadn't been hiding his sexuality, he hadn't been wearing a rainbow flag and making out with guys in the hallway. Not that there was anyone he'd even considered dating anyway.

"Good. Because I like you and while I don't think a night in solitary is worth it, but I totally would have kicked your ass." She piled her plate and Kitty's on Dave's and stood up. "Collection's over there. If you don't finish they'll stop you but since we've all finished you shouldn't have a problem. Thanks for volunteering to take the plates."

"Happy to," he grumbled, the faint smile on his face betraying his lack of true annoyance. Most of the other people were already gone from the cafeteria, so Dave didn't feel so self-conscious walking up to the front of the room to turn in their plates.

Penny and Kitty were waiting at the door, talking softly. When Dave got close they started walking again. Dave followed them into the round room where everyone was split up around the room into their groups. As with the cafeteria, Dave's eyes found Kurt instinctively, noting that while he was in a large group, he was sitting on the edge, only contributing a few words every so often. Penny led Kitty and Dave, taking Dave by the hand when she realized he was watching Kurt and not noticing her walking away, towards the bookshelf and bean bags. She commandeered three of them and tossed them against the wall.

"So what's with you and Kurt?" she asked, flopping down onto the pillow with an ease that indicated it wasn't the first time.

"Nothing. Why?"

"Don't even lie to me, Dave. You've been watching him since you came in." She leaned forward as if afraid of being overheard. "You do know he's taken, right? His boyfriend is apparently perfect. They've been together since high school. Blaine something-or-other. He visits Kurt every week. They always act ridiculously in love. It's rather sickening, actually."

"I don't even know Kurt. He went to my high school, that's all." He wasn't sure why she mentioned Kurt's boyfriend. His fascination with Kurt at first stemmed from the desire to figure out why he looked so familiar. Now he just wanted to figure out what had happened the night before – why Kurt was so forgiving and why it meant so much to Dave.

"Well, we're friends now and as a friend I'm warning you: Kurt's not the kind of person you want to get involved with. Of course, that's coming from me." Before Dave could ask what she meant by that comment, a nurse walked in and announced free time was over and it was time to go to their groups.

Penny and Kitty were in different groups than Dave, but Kurt was already sitting at one of the chairs of a circle when Dave walked into the room he'd been assigned. Group wasn't exactly what Dave was expecting. It was better and worse. Better because no one asked him to stand up and bare his soul but worse because he did have to talk and come up with a goal for the day. Most of them were simple – write down five things I love about myself, not insult anyone, talk to someone new. When it was Dave's turn, he mumbled something about paying attention to what people said and was happy when the focus moved on from him.

The rest of the day went decently, staying attached to Penny and Kitty except when they were in separate groups. The craft for the day was painting birdhouses which struck Dave as funny and a little pointless. When he made it to the afternoon group he was happy to admit that he had met his goal for the most part. It gave him a bigger sense of accomplishment than he thought it would. The whole day went so well that it wasn't until he was lying in bed that night listening to the sound of Kurt's even breathing that he realized for the first time he made it through the entire day without wanting to sleep it away.

"Wake up, David." There was a hand on his arm, pressing lightly and pulling him to wakefulness. Kurt's voice repeated the words several more times before Dave managed to open his eyes and register the fact that Kurt was sitting on the edge of his bed and the clock on the nightstand read 1:45 am.

"What's wrong?" He asked, pushing himself up with one hand and wiping the sleep from his eyes with the other. Even in the faint light Dave could see that Kurt's cheeks were flushed and his breathing was ragged.

"I'm supposed to go home today. I get to see Blaine and my family and I should be happy but I'm not and if I tell them that they'll try to keep me for longer." Kurt was talking for a mile a minute and Dave's tired brain had to work double time to keep up.

"Why are you telling me this?" Dave asked. They hadn't spoken at all the previous day, even though Dave had looked all day for an opening to approach Kurt. Kurt recoiled as if struck and Dave reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him back as gently as possible. Kurt was pliable, sliding back on the bed easily.

"I have no one else to talk to. If I tell anyone else they'll report me and the doctors will want to switch my meds and keep me here another week." The hand that Dave wasn't holding the wrist of suddenly reached over, nails digging in to Dave's skin as Kurt leaned closer. "You won't tell, will you? Please. I…I won't last another week, I won't."

"Kurt…" Dave wasn't sure he should make that promise, but he could see in Kurt's eyes that the other boy wasn't lying. If he stayed longer something bad would happen. Dave just hoped it wasn't as bad as what would happen if Kurt left. Swallowing bile, Dave nodded. "I won't tell."

"I just feel like I'm suffocating in here. I've been here so long I'm not going to have anything at all to wear when I leave. Seriously. My wardrobe is going to need serious updating unless navy blazers are still in fashion in the summer." Dave wasn't sure exactly what happened, but he sensed a shift in the tone of the conversation from the desperate, frantic ravings to a lighter almost joking tone. The grip on his arm loosened but neither of them let go of the other completely. "I don't suppose you've kept up to date on fashion trends?"

"Not all gay men read Vogue, you know," Dave said, trying to keep his tone light. He wasn't sure why he slipped that bit in about his sexuality, but he was holding his breath waiting for Kurt's reaction. He was disappointed because Kurt didn't even flinch.

"Shame. Blaine's useless as well. He's worn the same thing since high school – bow ties and no socks and pants that show his ankles." There was a fondness in his voice that made something inside Dave clench. "Blaine's my boyfriend, by the way. We've been together for almost five years now. He goes to school at OSU. He's going to be a doctor."

"Sounds like a stand-up guy," Dave said dryly, clenching his free hand in the sheets in an attempt to redirect the feelings of anger growing inside of him.

"Yeah, he's the perfect boyfriend." Something about the way Kurt said the words, more as if they were the words people wanted to hear and less like he actually believed them, struck Dave as odd. Silence stretched between them and Dave didn't have the words to break it.

"We should sleep." Kurt's hand on his arm gave a gentle squeeze as he took his wrist back. Dave missed the warmth almost immediately. He missed the way that Kurt's skin felt against his and the weight that made the bed dip to the side. "Goodnight, David."

"'Night." Despite how exhausted he had been only a few minutes before, he suddenly found himself wide awake. The feelings that accompanied just the thought of Blaine made him feel physically ill and that scared him.

Unbidden, Kitty's comment from earlier in the day came back to him. It had been during their last free time session of the day and the three of them were putting together a puzzle on the floor in the section they'd 'claimed' when Dave realized both girls were watching him. He, in turn, had his eyes on Kurt who was standing at the payphone twirling the cord around his fingers and whispering frantically into the phone. Every so often Kurt's eyes would rove the room as if making sure no one was eavesdropping, making Dave all the more curious to know what the conversation was about.

"People always fall for the ones they can't have," Kitty whispered. Dave knew she wasn't talking to him from the low pitch of her voice and the fact that her lips were practically touching Penny's ear but he'd heard her.

He had dismissed her words as foolish, maintaining that all he felt was a passing interest in someone from his past that, in another life, he might have known. But perhaps she was on to something. Then the thought of Blaine invaded his mind and he shoved away anything he might or might not be feeling. When sleep came, he welcomed the blackness that, like always, refused to give way to dreams.

Once again, Kurt was gone when Dave woke up. Even though he expected it, it didn't stop him from frowning at the empty bed for several minutes before hauling himself out of his bed and into the bathroom. Already he had fallen into a routine. He spent the morning with Kitty, who still hadn't said a single word to Dave, and Penny, who never stopped talking, and tried to take up as little space as possible in the group without being conspicuous.

Kurt's party was during lunch, complete with cupcakes and balloons and music. Almost everyone was in a good mood, laughing and dancing. One of the nurses brought in a karaoke machine and everyone took a turn at singing – Penny even convinced Dave to go up with her and sing some sappy love song. He never sang in front of anyone, and the weird look Kurt was giving him was exactly the reason. When he got back to his seat he sunk in as deep as he could go, looking anywhere but at Kurt.

Dave's favorite parts were all when Kurt sang. Most of the time the songs were completely foreign to Dave, but it was easy to get lost in Kurt's voice. A few of the other people were probably better singers than Kurt, but none of them could infuse the same amount of emotion in the singing that Kurt managed effortlessly. If it was possible, Dave would be able to watch Kurt perform all day without ever getting bored.

"Thank you everyone for coming, but I see a dashingly handsome man waiting for me." He put the microphone down and gestured for someone to come closer. Dave looked back and saw someone who could only be Blaine grinning sheepishly in the doorway before navigating his way through the crowd to walk on stage where Kurt shoved the microphone in his face. "Say hi to everyone, Blaine."

"Hello, everyone." Blaine seemed just as at home on the stage as Kurt did. Everyone chorused back a hello to him and he smiled and waved before putting a hand on Kurt's shoulder and saying something too quiet for the microphone to pick up. Kurt frowned and shook his head, whispering earnestly back. Blaine's lips were pursed but finally he nodded and Kurt smiled, leaning down and kissing Blaine quickly.

"Before we go, Blaine agreed to sing with me. He's a little out of practice so don't be too hard on him." Kurt laughed as Blaine made a face and took the spare microphone out of the stand.

"We'll see who's out of practice," Blaine said with a grin as the music started playing. Dave watched as they sang, noticing the way they fed off each other's energy and felt a pang of jealousy at the intensity with which Kurt looked at Blaine. In all fairness, Blaine was a good singer – better than good. But their voices clashed instead of complimenting each other. Too soon, they were done and Kurt was walking hand in hand with Blaine out of the room and out of Dave's life.

"Don't worry; I'm sure you'll see him again." Penny's voice broke through the miasma of despair Dave was building up and he looked at her in surprise. She chuckled, pulling out a black notebook. "Kurt's what we call a lifer. Every time he leaves we take bets on how long until he comes back and why he'll come back. I'm always right and I predict our emotionally and mentally challenged friend will be back in two weeks tops." She stood up on her chair and everyone turned to her. "Anyone want to go for longer than two weeks?"

"I'll take a month and a half and hearing voices!" Almost everyone wanted to place a bet. Dave couldn't really blame them; there wasn't much worth doing in the place but the enthusiastic way they were betting on Kurt made him nauseous. It was like they _wanted_ him to fail. And some of the ways people described the reason he came back were too terrible to comprehend.

"I…uh…I have to go," Dave said, shoving his chair out and leaving the cafeteria. Penny said something after him but he was already too far gone to hear her. A few people were loitering around in the common room, mostly the older patients who left right after lunch before the party started. The bean bags were free and Dave grabbed several of them and lay out on his back, staring at the ceiling.

All sounds of talking faded away as Dave focused intently on a single blue ceiling tile, mapping its surface over and over until he could close his eyes and see it in perfect detail. It was a skill he'd picked up over the years; focus on something small until all his other senses shut down. Time would pass in random increments that seemed to slip past him. Once he'd sat on his bed looking at the door for six hours before he realized what he was doing.

Shutting down for that long wasn't an option in Harmon and before he knew it, a nurse was kneeling next to him telling him it was time to go to afternoon group. Freeing himself from the stupor was harder than falling into it. Finally he roused himself enough that he could respond to the nurse and allow her to lead him to the room where the rest of his group was waiting for him.

"Well, Dave, let's start with you. Did you do one thing out of your comfort zone today?" Dave was glad the woman reminded him because otherwise he knew he would have forgotten what his morning goal was. Sluggishly, he nodded, keeping his eyes focused on the wall behind the therapist's head because eye contact would be too difficult.

"I, uh, I sang at Kur – uh, at the party." Kurt's name caught in his throat and he swallowed around the lump it formed. The saving grace of going first was that no one expected him to contribute for the rest of the session and he could focus on the pattern of light falling through the half open blinds. When everyone else got up to leave, he followed without thinking about what or where he was going.

Thankfully, Penny intercepted him and acted as a guide. She was gentle with him, which almost annoyed him enough to snap him out of it but then the moment passed and he decided it wasn't worth it to tell her that he wasn't a child who needed a babysitter. Even when the nutritionist took him aside after he tried to hand in a full plate he ignored the warning she gave in favor of counting the number of kernels in a row of corn.

Their bedroom – _his_ bedroom now – was a welcome reprieve. All signs that Kurt had been there were erased, from the picture on the nightstand to the clothes in the drawer. Strangely, though Dave didn't dwell on it, none of that bothered him as he fell into the bed, taking comfort in the way the mattress seemed to drown him. He lay there for hours listening to the sound of his breathing and the ticking of the clock on the wall until nothing existed aside from the gentle rise and fall of his chest in time with the ticking. Sleep never came that night and after a while Dave stopped trying.

Dave had experienced enough lows in his life to know when something was wrong, even if he couldn't summon the energy to brush his teeth let alone actively seek help. The next day during his session with Doctor Bell, she seemed to notice his lethargy because she changed his medication. By the time he took his pills in the morning the haze that separated his mind from his body was starting to lift. It wasn't an instant cure, but he recognized the effects of new medicine in the dry mouth and clammy skin. After four days on his new medicine he was feeling almost back to normal. His nightly routine no longer consisted entirely of falling into bed, but now included changing into pajamas and brushing his teeth.

He almost walked past the figure sitting on the bed in his blind desire to sleep – one of the new medications he took helped with the insomnia. His hand was on the doorknob of the bathroom when he heard the soft sniff of someone suppressing tears. "Are you o – Kurt?"

There was no mistaking the person leaning back against the wall, eyes looking at the white bandage around his wrist. At his name, Kurt looked up and Dave saw the red rims to his eyes and several tears falling in near silence. "Bet you didn't think you'd see me again so soon."

"What's wrong, Kurt?" Dave didn't miss that there was no humor in Kurt's voice despite the words. Hesitantly, he closed the distance between them until he could reach out and touch Kurt but he kept his hand to himself.

"H-He left me. Blaine left me. He just…He said he m..met someone else. S…someone normal." The small flow of tears turned into sobbing and Dave had trouble making out the words through the shaking in Kurt's voice. "I wanted to die. I want to die, but I couldn't even do that right. I tried and I can't even die right. How could anyone ever want me?"

Suddenly the bandages on Kurt's wrist made sense and Dave was struck by the desire to tell Kurt he was perfect, that someone could love him. That someone might already love him just the way he was. Instead Dave just sat on the edge of the bed, looking at Kurt whose eyes were aimed at the bandage with a look of accusation.

"I read that if you cut deep enough the blood won't even be red when it comes out. They didn't say you would see the tendons. I just pressed as hard as I could and it hurt so badly but I kept pressing because everything in the apartment made me think of Blaine. And then I realized the knife wasn't sharp so I sawed and –" Kurt choked on a sob and Dave didn't say anything, waiting in horror for Kurt to start talking. "Blaine walked in then and saw the blood. God, there was so much blood, Dave. I felt like I could swim in it. The knife was somewhere else and I was just…just looking at my arm and I could see things except it was so…so mangled that it looked like hamburger and I felt like I was floating and I couldn't breathe and I thought I was dead and I was…I was almost happy. But Blaine called the hospital and an ambulance came and I thought Blaine was going to love me again because he was holding me and talking to me and telling me to hold on and I did, I held on for him even though I wanted to give in to the cold and just go to sleep but I didn't and then he let the paramedics take me and _he didn't even come_."

Dave had no words but Kurt didn't seem to want any. Eventually the sobbing faded away and his lids started to sag. Dave waited until Kurt was snoring lightly to maneuver his body so it was lying down with the covers pulled up to his chin. Dave pressed his lips to Kurt's forehead, smoothing his hair out of his eyes before standing up and going to lie on his own bed where he fell asleep and dreams of Kurt lying in a pool of blood tormented him. Several times he woke up and had to look over to assure himself Kurt was still breathing.

When the nurse came and rapped on the door the next morning, Kurt was still asleep. After Dave showered and dressed he saw that Kurt still hadn't moved, though his eyes were open and he was staring across the room without blinking. Unsure of what he should do, he just stood frozen in the doorway. "Kurt, uh, we have to go."

The only response he got was a noncommittal hum from Kurt but no other signs of life. The nurses came around again, knocking on the door and telling them it was last call. Dave tried several more times to get Kurt's attention but nothing he said seemed to get past the impenetrable wall Kurt put up. When the clock flashed 6:45, Dave was forced to give up. He was going to leave when Kurt started talking.

"I can't face them," he said softly. "I know what they say about me when I leave and I just…I can't bear it today." He sat up and his expression turned hard. "So what did you bet?"

"I…I didn't. Kurt, I don't think they know it upsets you." He wasn't sure if that was the truth because, personally Dave knew that he would feel the same way as Kurt and that was why he hadn't placed a bet.

"You didn't? You were pretty close with Penny when I left and I know she's the one who keeps track."

"I was…I mean, I am. But, well, I wouldn't want people to bet on me failing so…Listen Kurt -" His attention was drawn to the door where a nurse rapped sharply before opening and telling them it was time to go to breakfast.

"You should go, Dave. We don't all need to be late." Kurt stood up and gave a shaky smile. "I'm fine. I'll see you in group. Now go. I have a very intense morning routine. It's why I normally wake up early."

Convinced that Kurt, if not fully well was at least on his way there, Dave left the room and headed to the cafeteria where Penny accosted him the second he sat down with his food. "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" He asked around a mouthful of food.

"Natalie said she saw Kurt in last night. Is he really back?"

Dave was spared from answering when Kurt walked through the door, head held high as if he owned the place. Watching his progress through the room, it was impossible to see the scared boy who was afraid of facing people. He smiled and laughed and everyone bought his story of how he'd just forgotten to take his medicine one day and his doctor decided another brief stay would be best. When Kurt changed his direction and wound up in front of their table, Dave expected Kurt to say something to him. Instead, Kurt turned to Penny. "So, who won this time?"

"Hmmm…I think Vince did. Of course, he said suicide attempt, but he did get the five days." She laughed as Kurt, not missing a beat, turned and called to a middle aged man sitting at the center table.

"Congratulations, Vince. You finally won. It's only been what? Three years?" Everyone laughed at that and Dave felt like an outsider. They all knew each other with very few exceptions. The thought that Dave might become one of those people, the kind that spent their life in and out of psych hospitals, was enough to make his stomach feel like lead.

If Dave thought becoming Kurt's confidante meant they were friends, he was mistaken. After laughing with Penny he walked back and took his seat at the center table with little more than a glance at Dave. "Damn, what did you do to piss him off?"

"What do you mean?" Dave asked, wondering what he'd missed.

"I mean; Kurt didn't even want to look at you, so you must have done something to upset him. What happened last night?"

"Nothing," Dave said. Kurt's secrets were his to tell and judging by the long sleeves he wore to cover the bandages, he didn't plan on telling them. "He was already asleep when I got back."

"I'd give anything to know what's going on with him." She was looking at Kurt covetously and Dave felt a flare up of annoyance.

"Maybe it's none of your business," he snapped, shoving his chair backwards and stalking off to drop his plate in the bin before letting his anger carry him through to the common area.

Penny followed him in a few minutes later and sat down next to him without saying anything. The silence stretched several minutes, long enough for the rest of the residents to trickle in and go to their normal morning activities. "I like knowing everything, Dave. That's just who I am. I'm sorry if I stepped on a nerve, though. I'm a reporter in the real world, so sometimes I forget that these people have secrets I can't know."

"I have a bad temper sometimes if you haven't noticed," Dave admitted, returning her hesitant smile. "Kurt's secrets aren't mine, though. So if you want to know you'll have to ask him yourself."

"Fair enough. We all good?" She offered a hand and Dave shook it. The relief at making up with Penny was instant. He never liked fighting with his friends and in Harmon, Penny was just about the only one he had.

Dave grabbed a book from the bookshelf and started reading, losing himself in the words until it was his turn to talk to Doctor Bell. Their sessions were always short for which Dave was grateful. She asked him the same questions every day – how do you feel?, how did you sleep?, any noticeable side effects? – before releasing him to go to group with a promise to see him the next day.

He wasn't even surprised when, upon walking out of the bathroom that night, Kurt was sitting on his bed. The overhead light was still on, illuminating all of Kurt's flaws in vibrant detail. Dave took a moment to study Kurt before the other boy noticed he was standing there. No longer was he blinded by first impressions to only see the beautiful. He noticed that Kurt's lips were just a little too big and his ears stuck out a little, looking almost elfin in the way they tapered at the top. He could see the wrinkles already starting to form on Kurt's forehead and around his eyes even though they were only twenty-two and the scar on his neck that was too far back to have been from a suicide attempt. Kurt's fingers were twitching slightly and Dave noticed for the first time how long they were.

Looking at Kurt, Dave saw no trace of the person who had shouted during lunch earlier that day. The nurse was just trying to help him eat. Despite his valiant attempts at hiding it, everyone already knew something was wrong with Kurt's hand. His fingers were limp and unresponsive and the few times Kurt tried to use it, there was a flash of pain so obvious that it hurt Dave to just see it. Instead of accepting the help, Kurt wound up throwing his plate across the table, sending the food everywhere as he stormed out of the room. The silence that followed him was thick enough Dave could almost feel it.

Kurt's words brought him back to the present.

"I wish I had stayed at McKinley longer." Dave sat on his bed, waiting for Kurt to continue. He liked that they started their conversations as if they're already in the middle of one, as if the time during the day was just the blink of an eye and the only real time is when they talk at night. "All of my best memories are of glee club. Do you remember Rachel Berry?" Kurt laughed at the memory, a low chuckle that Dave wants to hear again.

"She comes to visit sometimes. And Mercedes Jones. Sometimes Tina and Mike, too. It's been a while, though. Not like I blame them." Dave wanted to ask how long Kurt's been in Harmon or other places like it, but something stopped him. He didn't want to ruin the moment. "I wanted to act on Broadway or design clothes. I want to leave my mark on the world. Do something so that I won't be forgotten when I die…It was a stupid dream."

"It's not stupid." Dave recognized the personal information Kurt shared and found himself offering his own confession. "I...I wanted to be a professional hockey player. I was on the team but my dad made me quit after high school, even though I got a scholarship to play in college. He said I wouldn't be able to play and keep up my grades to get into law school."

"I'm sorry you don't get along with your dad. My dad is the best thing in my life." Dave remembered the photo he had seen on the night stand, how happy everyone had been, even if only for long enough to snap a picture. There were plenty of family pictures with Dave's family, but all of them had the staged look of a professional setting, nothing spontaneous, nothing genuine. Despite that, Dave never characterized his relationship with his parents as bad, just different from families that had picnics and family vacations just because they could.

"We don't have the most open relationship, but my parents do love me in their way," he explained. "And it's not really their fault, not all of it."

"But they're your parents. Shouldn't they love you unconditionally?" Dave chuckled, wishing that life could be that easy. Not that he thought Kurt's life was easy; the bloodstained bandage around his wrist was proof enough of that.

"I spent so long trying to hide who I am, that somewhere along the way I managed to lock everyone out of my life. I didn't come out to them until I was twenty. And you know how in all those stories the parents already know?" Kurt nodded. "Mine didn't. They were upset about it for a long time, and I don't know if they're fully over it yet."

"I didn't tell my dad until I was fifteen. It was probably the worst kept secret in the world." Kurt's small, fond smile was infectious and Dave felt himself give one as well. He didn't have any fond memories of coming out. Just a lot of tense silence from his dad, then a single harsh question from his mom before she went running out of the room in tears.

"I was sure my parents would like…try to exorcise me or something," Dave admitted.

"Did they?"

"No." Close enough, though. They'd dragged the priest in to talk to him but Dave had walked out and refused to see his parents for the next month and a half until his dad finally showed up at his apartment and gave him an awkward hug and extracted a promise to visit for Christmas. "I was so afraid they would hate me forever, though. So I kept putting it off and putting it off. I tried sleeping around – do you remember 'Scandals' back in Lima?"

"The gay bar?" From the rueful expression that passed over Kurt's face, Dave knew that Kurt remembered.

"I went there two or three times a week during senior year. And then I got to Columbus and there were so many more options but no matter how many guys I went home with I still felt like something was missing. So…one weekend I drove back to Lima and told my parents after dinner. My dad just looked so _shocked_ and my mom literally burst into tears."

"I'm so sorry, David," Kurt said, looking at him with an intensity that forced Dave's eyes away and to the side. He reached a hand up to brush away the start of a tear before it could turn into something more.

"So, how did you do it?" Dave changed the subject. He hated dwelling on his relationship with his parents any more than he absolutely had to and already he felt the ache in his chest that resulted in thinking about them too much.

"It was just after my third hospital stay. One of the things my therapist told me I could do was to confide in people more. So we were sitting in the car and I could tell my dad had no idea what to say and I just…I blurted it out. I guess I expected him to freak out but all he said was 'I know.'" Jealousy rose like bile in Dave's mouth but he pushed it away. It wasn't Kurt's fault that Dave's parents weren't as open-minded. "It…it wasn't always easy, though. Especially after he started dating Carol – Finn's mom. Finn was everything I thought my dad wanted in a son so when they spent time together I thought I was losing him. I took a bottle of sleeping pills that time."

Dave didn't know what to say in response to that. What would he want someone to say to him if they ever found out about the time he'd tried to hang himself? Not even his parents knew about it. All they knew was the board in his closet had broken when Dave tried to use it for pull-ups. "I'm glad you're alive."

"Thank you," Kurt said quietly, meeting Dave's eyes but not returning the small smile Dave offered. The conversation drifted off from there but Dave knew there was nothing else he could say without exposing the one secret he'd never told. And no matter how much he wanted to trust Kurt, wanted to confide his secret to _someone_, the words caught in his throat and refused to pass. When he looked over, Kurt's eyes were closed and his breathing had deepened into sleep. Something had changed between them, something that Dave couldn't quite name but which made his entire body warm.

xxxxxx

Their routine continued for the next week. Kurt would be up and gone before Dave even had the chance to open his eyes. Dave would rush through his morning routine because he was undoubtedly late – waking up was getting harder and harder. They would see but not acknowledge each other in the common areas. Then when they were in the rooms, they would spill their heart and souls to each other. Or Kurt would, with Dave hanging on every word. But always, always, by the time Dave finished talking he would look over to see Kurt sleeping.

Some part of him was upset that he was so obviously uninteresting that Kurt could fall asleep while he was still talking. Most of him was just happy to have someone to talk to at all. He'd never been close enough with his parents, even before coming out. Azimio was his best friend, but there were things guys just don't talk about and most of what Dave needed to say fell in that category. And Dr. Hensley, his therapist, was too professional to count; she had to listen to him and pretend to care and while it felt good to get it out to her, it couldn't even begin to compare to someone listening even when they didn't have to.

Dave loved all the little things he learned about Kurt, treasuring them just as much as the big, heavy secrets they only shared at the very end of the conversations after the lights were out. He learned the way that Kurt would blush bright red whenever anything vaguely sexual was mentioned, drawing his legs up to his chest and suddenly finding the interlacing of his fingers endlessly fascinating until the subject changed. He memorized the range of happiness that would play across Kurt's features from the fond, possessive smile that accompanied talking about his family to the broad gestures and general, full body quivering when talking about Broadway and his bright future. Dave could close his eyes and see the complete withdraw when Kurt spoke about Blaine, lips tight, arms tight, breath tight, until even Dave felt like he was going to shrivel into nothing unless they changed the subject. Dave was good at reading Kurt and, like a good book, he knew it was something he would never get tired of.

Kurt was good at reading Dave as well, though Dave wasn't ever sure what he gave away that let Kurt sense his mood before Dave even knew what he himself was feeling. No one ever got Dave as quickly as Kurt did, if they understood him at all. No one else knew that when he added 'or whatever' at the end of a sentence, what he was really saying was, 'I don't think you would care enough to listen anyway, even though I really need to tell someone.' But Kurt did. Kurt could draw him out behind the carefully constructed wall with exactly the right words. So even though Kurt fell asleep before Dave finished talking, at least he cared enough to ask.

Sometimes Dave brought up Kurt when he was talking to Doctor Bell, but usually he skimmed over their talks and she was as blind as the rest of the world because she never pursued the subject. Or at least he thought she was blind, but on his nineteenth day, she looked up from her pad and instead of telling him he was free to go, she set down her pen and paper and leveled a look at him that made him squirm.

"You and Kurt are getting close?" He felt like there was a deeper meaning to the question, but he forced himself to relax and shrug.

"We're roommates," he said casually. And it was true; they were roommates. They were just roommates who fell asleep every night after sharing their deepest secrets. "We don't really talk much during the day."

"You've made friends with Penny Carmichael, correct?" Dave let out a breath at the change of subject. It was easy to dredge up a fond smile at mention of Penny. Despite their differences – her outgoing personality and his painfully introverted – they had become good friends. She had helped him learn to navigate the waters of Harmon, letting him know who should be avoided and how to determine if someone was on the edge of a breakdown. He would miss her when he left, even though they'd already promised to exchange information and meet up in the real world.

"Yeah. And Kitty – uh, Katherine, that is. We haven't got group together, but the rest of the time we are." Something in her pursed lips told him that she wasn't going to drop the subject of Kurt just yet.

"I'm glad you've made friends here, Dave." Her smile told the same story, but he heard the underlying 'but' at the end. Sure enough, "But I would like to bring up the danger of forming…lasting attachments to the people you meet here. While they are great support, do not lean too heavily on them. For your sake and for theirs. When you leave here you should resume with your old life, taking the experience here with you to help you establish new relationships."

Dave understood what she wasn't saying; don't rely on Kurt or Penny because they're just as messed up as he is if not more. And while he couldn't argue with her, he refused to see the logic in what she said. So he just nodded like he was going to take her advice while repeating Penny's phone number and email address over in his head. "I've known them for less than three weeks. We're not all of a sudden best friends."

"I'm not telling you how to live your life, Dave," she said. Except she was, and Dave bristled in resentment not because he didn't like being told what to do so much as because what she said made sense. He almost came clean about Kurt then, about how much he craved the conversations and how it's only while he's listening to Kurt's voice that he feels completely engaged. Yes, he's better overall, but compared to when he's with Kurt, he's barely functioning in his day-to-day life. Except he was like an addict and there's a reason why the first step is admitting you have a problem because it's so hard to consider it a _problem_ when it feels so good. So instead, he just tilts his lips in a shallow smile and tries not to betray anything to her. "How do you think you're doing?"

"Better," he answered truthfully. He no longer drifted off when people were talking to him. Instead, he could participate in a full conversation without missing a word, answering back with the knowledge that he knew exactly what he was commenting on instead of crossing his fingers and not really caring if his answer was the right one. Plus he no longer wanted to sleep all day, even when he got bored of the monotony of life inside Harmon. He told all that to Doctor Bell and after a few more questions, she told him that she was happy with his progress and he was free to go for the day.

Since his appointment was the last of the morning, everyone was already heading to their groups when Dave walked back into the common area so he turned and went straight to the already familiar room. As always, his eyes found Kurt's the moment he walked in and instantly knew something was wrong. Normally, Kurt would look at him and give a smile so small no one but Dave could see it. Instead, Kurt glanced tensely over before turning his gaze back to Lisa, the therapist who led the group. For the first time, Dave couldn't read Kurt at all, and it terrified him. No one else seemed to notice anything wrong and the session started like normal with each person going around and setting a goal.

When Kurt's turn came, he shrugged. The movement was more a jerking of his shoulder and neck rather than the fluid motion Dave associated with Kurt. When the therapist pressed, Dave only had a brief moment's warning, a tightening of Kurt's fist in his lap and a sharp tap of his foot, before everything exploded. "Stop writing! Just stop writing. Stop!"

"Kurt, I'm not writing. Ar-"

"You are! You're writing everything I say so you can tell the men and they can lock me up! You're working with them. I knew it! I always knew it! You're not my friend. None of you are my friends except for Dave." Kurt's eyes fixed on Dave and he suddenly got the urge to shrink into the chair. "You believe me right Dave?"

"Kurt…" Dave tried to think of something to say to calm Kurt down.

"Tell them, David. Tell them that I'm right. Please." The tears starting to form in Kurt's eyes were real and Dave felt his heart break for Kurt as the other boy continued to plead with Dave. Before he could say anything, two nurses walked in. One was holding a syringe and the other walked over and grabbed Kurt so the first could administer the shot.

Sedation wasn't immediate, which Dave knew from the two other times people had freaked out. The first was during lunch and the woman managed to give the nurse who came to restrain her a black eye before the sedative kicked in. The second incident was with one of the younger patients in the group. She'd just started screaming, a horrible whining keel that continued until her eyes began to droop and her movements became sluggish. And Kurt, Kurt just kept pleading with Dave, adding in profanities when Dave still said nothing. Finally Kurt's words tapered off until they were only muttered under his breath and individual words were no longer discernible. It felt as if his heart or his stomach was being ripped out of his body as the nurses dragged Kurt out of the room.

"I need to go…somewhere," Dave said, getting up from his chair and leaving the room without waiting for Lisa to give him permission. His entire body felt numb, as if he was the one who had been sedated and not Kurt. Oh, God, Kurt. Just the thought of the expression on Kurt's face was enough to send a chill through his body that the cool air of the building only exacerbated. That was how he found his way to the small court yard designated for patient use, empty except for the butterflies attracted to the flowers in the small garden, and Dave.

Within a few minutes he was sweating, the Ohio sun beating down mercilessly. Dave was beyond caring about the physical. His eyes were tracking the movement of a blue butterfly, but his thoughts were a lifetime away. Doctor Bell's words were playing on repeat in his head, worming their way through his thoughts of Kurt. He had fallen for the boy; there was no doubt about that. Somehow, Kurt had become the center of Dave's world here. Dave fell in love with the way Kurt sang and laughed and _existed_. He could listen to Kurt talk forever or just sit there. It was nothing like the random hookups or the few brief relationship he had tried. He got the feeling that even if he and Kurt had met under different circumstances, Dave still would have fallen in love. Love. It was such a foreign concept that it made his whole body warm up in a way the sun couldn't.

But then he remembered Doctor Bell's warning and the warmth vanished. He might love Kurt, but they could never be together. They were both too screwed up. Seeing Kurt like that was a wakeup call in more ways than one. Kurt needed someone stable, someone who could be strong for him. Dave was not strong. Dave avoided conflict at all costs. He could go days without speaking a single word to anyone and most of the time he couldn't even stand to be in the same room as other people. Kurt deserved better than that.

Dave resolved to talk with Kurt when he saw him again. He would thank him for the time together but explain that it would be better if they didn't continue their…whatever it was they were doing, outside of Harmon. Kurt would understand. Kurt was probably going to give Dave the same speech anyway.

The only flaw in his plan was that Kurt wasn't there when Dave got back to their room that night. The next morning he found out that Kurt was being held for 24 hours for observation which gave him another day to come up with the words he needed. Kurt was still nowhere to be found that afternoon, though, and Dave started to worry that Kurt wouldn't be back in time to say goodbye – the next day was his last one in Harmon.

And yet his fears were unfounded because Kurt was in their room when Dave walked in on his last night. The lights were already off and the only illumination came from the window, casting dark shadows across Kurt's face. For a moment, Dave was struck with the impossible fancy that Kurt is a ghost, his skin almost glowing in the moonlight. Almost of his own accord, Dave walked forward and sat on his own bed, never letting his eyes stray from Kurt for fear that when he looked back, the room would be empty. "I'm sorry. I…I am sorry, Dave."

He tried to open his mouth to say something, but before anything came out there were lips on his and his brain completely shut down as he responded instinctively. Kissing Kurt was nothing like the other kisses he had experienced. It was nothing like Dave had imagined it, either. Kurt was insistent without being rough, his hands settling on Dave's shoulders as if he could keep Dave there if he wanted to get away. Everywhere they were touching felt like a point of fire to Dave, painful to the point of tears but too addicting to give up.

Every reason Dave accumulated over the past day and a half vanished in an instant. He wanted nothing more than to freeze this moment and keep it forever. Forget about his problems and Kurt's problems or all the arguments for why they could never work. That feeling, the utter contentment he felt when Kurt pulled away and settled his head on Dave's chest – somehow they had gone from sitting to lying down – was all he needed. He knew they still needed to talk, but he closed his eyes just for a moment to capture the moment, and sleep claimed him.

The first thing he became aware of was a tingling in his arm where it had fallen asleep, followed quickly by a weight against his side making him uncomfortably warm. Dave moved a little, opening his eyes and letting the events of the previous night flood through him. It all felt like some kind of a dream. A really, really good dream. Except Kurt was still there, blinking and looking up at him with a small smile on his lips. On a whim, Dave leaned down to kiss him, relishing in how sweet it was even through the morning breath.

"'Morning," he said. He couldn't remember ever feeling so content before. He'd been happy, the kind of giddy happiness that burned away quickly and left an ache in his gut that nothing could fill. This was whole body warmth that radiated out from some point in his chest. If he could have stayed like that forever, he would have seized the chance.

"You don't need to promise me anything," Kurt said a note of sadness in his voice that Dave wouldn't have noticed two weeks ago. "You can walk out of here and never see me again. I won't blame you." Dave laughed, tightening his hold on Kurt so the boy couldn't pull away.

"I don't want to leave," Dave said firmly. Kurt smiled widely and leaned up, pressing his lips to Dave's again. "Do you want me to go?"

"No. No, I don't." Kurt shook his head and sat up, the loss of warmth sending a chill through Dave. The look Kurt gave him was playful as he shoved Dave gently on his shoulder. "C'mon. It's time to get up for your last day. How do you feel?"

"Happy," Dave said. "I am so happy right now."

xxxxxxx

"Hey, what's this?" Dave looked up from the box he was packing to see what Kurt was asking about. It had been a month since his stay in Harmon and while life wasn't perfect, for the first time in his life he had more good days than bad ones. The past week had been especially good with Kurt being released from the hospital and then spending every moment together that they could. Kurt had taken Dave to meet his family, who had all loved Dave and told him to come back any time. Even Finn warmed up by the time they started dishing out the food, though Dave doubted they would ever really be friends.

Dave hoped their dinner with his dad would go half as well. His mom still refused to attend, but Paul was doing his best to sound excited about meeting Kurt and Dave appreciated the effort. Of course, chances were it would be an awkward few hours with both of them avoiding looking at the other. He had offered to cancel, but Kurt had put his foot down, insisting that if Dave got to meet his family, then he got to meet Dave's. All Dave could do was smile and go along with it. If anyone could get on his dad's good side out of sheer determination, it would be Kurt.

Kurt who was helping him pack up his apartment because his lease was up and he decided that a new start was needed. He didn't have a new place picked out yet, and as the deadline for the move got closer and closer he started to worry about what was going to happen. For some reason, he just couldn't settle on any that he liked well enough to commit to a year lease.

The envelope Kurt was holding was terribly familiar and Dave felt an ache in his gut. Despite his promise to himself, he had never managed to open the letter from Harvard law. He didn't want to face the rejection in case it made him spiral back down to the place he had been before Harmon. "Nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing," Kurt said, holding it out of Dave's reach. Dave made a desperate grab for it but Kurt twisted away, ripping the envelope open as he evaded Dave.

"Don't tell me, okay? It was a long shot but my advisor said I should try and my psychiatrist agreed…"

"Shut up, Dave," Kurt said, eyes still skimming the paper. Dave closed his, unable to bear the disappointment he was sure was going to show up on Kurt's face at any moment. He felt Kurt's hands on his face, turning his head and then Kurt's lips pressing to his in a soft kiss. "You're in. Did you hear me? You can go to Harvard law."

"I'm sure the deadline's already past," he said, trying to quash the hope that was rising in his chest. Never, in any scenario, did he think he would get in to Harvard. Yes, his advisor told him that his grades were good and he had scored well on the LSAT, but he graduated from a state college which wouldn't compare to all the Ivy League applicants.

"Stop looking for problems. The deadline is next week." Dave rocked back on his heels when Kurt threw his arms around Dave's torso and hugged. Dave wrapped his arms back and lowered his head to rest on Kurt's shoulder, a huge smile on his lips as the news finally sunk in. "So I guess you're going to Massachusetts then?"

"No. We're going to Massachusetts. I mean, only if you want to," Dave amended. "I know you were set on New York…"

"We can work something out," Kurt said. He pulled back, placing his hands between them on Dave's chest and smiling in to a kiss. "Now, I think we have time to pack a few more boxes before have to leave for dinner with your dad. You have some good news to share."

"Thank you, Kurt." Dave wasn't sure what he was thanking Kurt for. For opening the letter. For understanding Dave better than anyone else and refusing to back down. For helping him pack. For just existing in the first place.

They worked in comfortable silence for several more minutes, falling into a routine easily. Dave started moving the full boxes into the living room while Kurt taped up a few more. Dave just set down the last one when Kurt spoke again. "Why were you in Harmon, Dave? I mean, I know the depression, but why did you choose then? What happened?"

"It's complicated," Dave said. Kurt tilted his head and put a hand on his hip in a gesture that Dave knew meant he wasn't going to let it go. Dave sighed, sitting on the couch and taking comfort from Kurt's presence when the smaller boy sat beside him.

"Right after senior year, someone from school saw me at Scandals. I thought it would blow over, but suddenly no one wanted to talk to me. When I called they would blow me off or…I wasn't ready to be out to people I knew. I was already really bad then, and it was kind of the catalyst. I…" He didn't even realize he had lifted his hand to his neck, unconsciously rubbing the spot that had been burned by the rope, until Kurt's hand settled over his.

"I'm sorry, Dave," Kurt whispered. He was glad that Kurt didn't move closer because he was pretty sure he would have started crying and then he wouldn't have been able to finish the story. He closed his eyes and swallowed.

"The board was rotten, but I didn't know that. No one figured out what I tried to do and somehow I managed not to try again, but I was tempted a few times. Azimio helped a lot, even though he didn't realize it. I don't think he realizes even now." He took a shuddering breath and looked away from Kurt. He didn't want to see his reaction to the next part, even though he knew Kurt wouldn't judge him.

"Right before I checked in to Harmon I…I bought rope again, Kurt. I kept it in my closet and every night I would get it out and try to think of one reason not to finish what I started four years ago." Silence met that statement, but Kurt's hold on his hand tightened slightly.

"Do you still have it?" He asked. Dave wanted to lie, but he couldn't. Not to Kurt. Instead, he stood up and walked into his bedroom, reaching to the top shelf of his closet and grabbing the familiar object. Wordlessly, he handed it over to Kurt.

"I never tried hanging," Kurt said, turning the rope over in his hand. "Why did you?"

"It was the best option. Pills and knives hurt, and we didn't have any guns." He had never explained his thought process to anyone, but no one had asked. It was one of those things about Kurt, asking questions he dreaded and longed to answer. Kurt was still looking at the rope with a kind of fascination on his face that terrified Dave.

"Come on Dave, we have to go." Kurt's hand in his, Dave was no longer afraid.


End file.
